


Carte Blanche

by Askell



Series: If the kids are united [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Batfamily Feels, Crack, Cute, F/M, Fluff and Crack, Humor, M/M, Multi, Not Canon Compliant, Parenthood, Scandal, Secret Identity, batfamily, makeup and koi carps are involved, my beautiful sons, not really - Freeform, they wreck havoc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-03 13:10:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13341927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Askell/pseuds/Askell
Summary: Rich heirs finally hearing reason? Gotham's golden boys growing mellow: 2 weeks since last scandal! 45-years-old Bruce Wayne on the right path to becoming an adult?  see page 3.In order to protect their secret identities, the Wayne boys are givencarte blancheat a party. Their mission? To make sure that the crowns of World's #1 Rich Jerks stay on the same heads.And oh boi, is it a success.





	Carte Blanche

**Author's Note:**

> I recently started to read comics, having until then only seen the animated and cinematic universes of my favorite heroes and... I love Jason. My precious emo son. 
> 
> Anyway as I was writing this very serious plot of infiltration and gangs and Serious Stuff, I stumbled upon the present idea. After all, I have pushed my brother in a pool during a very important ceremony while my parents were not looking, so I have first-hand experience so to say. Whether or not this is inspired by real events will not be said... but you can guess, haha. 
> 
> If you're looking for anything else than insufferable siblings, a Tired father, his boyfriend and wife, cute family dynamics as well as a good dose of what the hell, this is not for you. 
> 
> It's a one shot, but if I feel inspired I might continue it. Suggestions are always welcome, especially if you have childhood stories to share.
> 
> Leave a comment if you liked, it makes me blush of happiness :D

On a scale from Officer Gordon to ‘drunk’ Bruce Wayne in the billionaires’ secret club’s pool in the Bahamas, Dick Grayson scored a solid ‘national scandal’. 

Suffice to say his original orders to turn ‘full douche’ had been met with flying colors. His necktie currently resided around the head of a rising movie star in a serious state of intoxication, while his uncontrollably giggling friend was thrown completely over the young heir’s lap. Two women, slightly more in control of themselves, shared blushing looks as they whispered to one another about the scale of the _scandal_. 

The laughing mess draped over Grayson’s thighs lasciviously was not only male, but the son of the president. Both flushed and heavy-lidded, they unconsciously adopted poses that would have better fit a painting of Achilles and Patroclus rather than some brainless tabloid.

All in all, Bruce’s plan had worked beyond expectations. Batman still made it to the front page regularly, but Wayne was rumored to grow old and mellow. His son’s academic achievements also seemed to point to a reformation of the family which once had been rumored to have convinced Prince Harry to escape their respective guards and go see a football match incognito. 

What really happened to the eldest, who was once so drunk he accidentally stumbled in the restricted part of the Pentagon? And what about his younger brother, well-known for being so sleep-deprived he had once said ‘fuck’ for thirty-seven seconds, before blinking and asking the reporter to repeat the question? Finally, what occurred of cute little Damian and his big heart, responsible for the evasion of the twelve pure-bloods of the Chantilly hippodrome he ‘preferred to see free of their shackles’?

Their public persona could under no circumstance been seen as becoming mature and responsible, that wouldn’t do. Not only was it bad for a business that revolved around revealing that those jerks actually knew how to count the green papers, but also to make sure that people wouldn’t associate them with their costumed avatars.

Bruce knew what he exposed himself to when he told his sons they had _carte blanche_. Wayne was keeping up with his public embarrassment rate, hence the role he very naturally adopted that night: the capitulating father. 

While Dick debauched every adult in a 15 feet radius without shedding a single cloth, edging on confirming the gossip about how fluid his sexuality was, without ever confirming it, Tim lived up to his reputation.

He was asleep in a fountain.

Bruce deduced the theme of the evening was ‘classical art’. Indeed, pale and soaked, one hand delicately folded over his chest while the other rested on the ground outside of the bassin, Tim looked like a twenty-first century Ophelia. The dark locks of his hair seemed like seaweed framing his elegant face, the glint of a sapphire at his ear reinforcing his ethereal grace. 

Two waiters were already trying to take care of him, but he stayed stubbornly silent. Perhaps was he genuinely asleep, Bruce knew how stressing the past week had been for him. Feigning apathy, he secretly hoped his son had made sure he wouldn’t catch a cold before dozing off with the kois. 

He would have almost taken care of him, hadn’t strident cries echoed from the other side of the room. Being a brainless jock, a sex-symbol, or a living example of the bad influence video games supposedly had one one’s health had never suited Damian. The youngest Wayne was too raw, too genuine for that. But he was also thirteen, and as every one who never had close contact with children since their own childhood knew, that meant he was pissy and full of hormones to the brim.

Damian was also excellent at making his eyes look big and innocent even when he was seriously pissed off, like a sort of Machiavellian Puss in the Boots. A mastered technique which he was currently employing, seeming just about to cry. The poor lady facing him was clutching to her arctic fox pelt and swan feathers, as she was yelled at by a very cute and desperate defender of animal rights.

The peak of the show was when she started to turn away: a projector wouldn’t have been too much on the scene. Damian promptly fell to his knees, pressed his palms against his face, his face against the marble floor, and started wailing.

Bruce heard Tim swear loudly at his impromptu awakening. The teenager slowly raised his pale arms to clutch around a young waiter’s neck, not unlike a siren tempting him to drawn in his beauty. The eldest Wayne suddenly realized it was Conner, wearing a fake mustache and blushing wildly as Tim asked him ‘what the fuck are you doing in my bathroom’. Apparently, his sons had called backup.

Dick had been his partner, protege, and son, for more than a dozen years. The young man’s charms were many, and if Nightwing harbored some of Grayson’s shameless flirt, it was nothing compared to the ode to depravity that was happening on the conveniently red velvet couches. Rumor was you could get pregnant just by being in the room once he was unleashed, wine and license posing him as a reincarnation of Aphrodite herself.

As Bruce Wayne, as well as other guests, turned their heads to the sound of slamming doors, it appeared that the reincarnation of Ares was to join the party. Elegant black liner enhancing the thickness of his dark lashes, turquoise eyes sparkling under elegant brows, Jason Todd smirked to the assembly. His burgundy tux clung to all the right places, for the pleasure of many eyes. It even seemed that his cheekbones were highlighted by golden dust, which really shouldn’t have been surprising.

The rogue ex-Robin was able to pass as anyone with enough preparation, no wonder his makeup skills were on fleek. Nobody saw Conner murmur in Tim’s ear that he looked like a K-pop idol, nor heard the snort which confirmed the thought.

Not even bothering to introduce himself, Jason made a beeline to the midnight blue form of the Wayne heir, an aura of danger and purpose around him. When his gorgeous, but lethal eyes ordered the president’s son out of Dick’s lap, everyone seemed to have sobered enough to obey promptly. One knee between Grayson’s open legs, bracing one arm against the couch and using his other hand to tilt Dick’s chin up, he grinned suggestively.

Bruce turned his head to avoid seeing uncomfortable amounts of open-mouthed kisses and smeared makeup, though he had no doubt the picture would be on every social media in a matter of minutes. Seeing someone raising an authentic camera, he even guessed it would make front page. Unless Damian’s flabbergasted face at a smiling Selina Kyle comforting him about his engagement against animal violence won the palm. 

“What did you do to them to deserve this?” chuckled a voice right next to him. 

Having retreated from big groups to reinforce his image of a parent having given up on controlling his reckless progeny, Wayne slowly turned to a familiar grin. 

“Mr. Kent, what a lovely evening don’t you think?” he replied with enough sarcasm to make the journalist snicker.

“Let me see, one of your sons is pushing the limits of public decency with… his boyfriend I presume?”

“...Jason,” Bruce muttered, after having clicked a small device allowing their conversation not to be heard by indiscreet ears. 

“No way,” whispered Clark, looking vaguely shocked. “Well, I must give it to him, black and gold does wonders to his eyes. You can be sure to be asked about his beauty routine in the upcoming weeks. Also I think Tim is under the pile of. Ugh. I was going to say towels, but it looks like a pile of Conner, actually.”

“Sometime I envy your enhanced sight, yet in times like these I’m glad to be spared,” retorted Bruce, allowing a small grin to grace his lips.

The seductive smile he was answered with was not part of what they would usually allow in public, but figures Wayne wouldn’t let his spot stolen by a bunch of teenagers.

“It has its perks sometimes.” A wince. “Although I must inform you that since Tim has a bucket on his head, Damian and Jason also have buckets on their heads.”

“What do you m-” he started to ask, turning to see Dick put a bucket on his head as well.

“Please tell me this is something you planned,” laughed Clark, wiping tears off his eyes with the hand not holding a champagne flute. 

“Where did they even find buckets, it’s _the Hilton_!? ...And yes. But not in these proportions.”

“When you told me to fly over the country to another finance shark’s party, I honestly thought you needed some help. You should have told me you wanted Metropolis’ ‘rich & beautiful’ column covered, I would have brought someone working there.”

“Retrospectively I believe I called you to be my official ‘moral support’ and ambiguously close friend,” answered Bruce, cold and casual in the revelation of his plan.  
Which Clark, raising an eyebrow, made him understand he didn’t believe a single second. However, Bruce was looking at Damian who was searching for confirmation that jailbreaking the koi carps from the basin where Tim used to take a nap was a little too much. When informed that it was, in fact, not enough, he preferred to use his bucket to soak Jason instead.

Several gasps arose. Jason’s reflexes were good. They were, as a matter of fact, excellent. So were Selina’s. Except the first had seen the threat, and the latter had not expected to receive a bucket of ice-cold pond water on her backless dress. The way she slowly turned, fury incarnated, toward the perpetrators, announced nothing good. 

“It was a pleasure to know you,” joked Clark. “You should probably talk to your wife though.”

“What did I do to make you believe I was suicidal, Clark?”

On the other hand, none of them would have imagined fifty of the richest people of the world spontaneously exploding into a giant water battle. Indeed, in all of her precision throwing, Selina had not managed to spare one of the guests’ shoes. Thus, the beginning of a war.

“You were _awful_. Ill-behaved, insolent, disrespectful, vulgar, loud, and extremely impolite,” scolded Selina back in the limo.

The seven men (Bruce and Clark having been included in the reprimand for having looked ‘smug’, Conner was just caught in the crossfires) each seemed at least a little apologetic. Jason wasn’t, but he had the presence of mind not to smirk even though he wanted to. 

“Richard, you looked like a cheap escort. I have sex workers enemies who are more dignified that you were. Timothy, had you wanted to sleep you could have asked the waiters to find you a room rather than falling ass first with the fishes. Damian, sweetheart, yelling at people is rude. Jason, what’s with the BTS wannabe look? With eyes like yours it’s crimson lipstick, not pale pink. Clark, you could have said something. Bruce, I don’t even know where to begin,” she continued, her tone hard and unforgiving.

Then, after a moment of pregnant silence, a wide grin broke on her face. Selina started chuckling louder and louder, quickly joined by Clark and Dick. Soon, everybody was more or less smiling, safe for Bruce who kept a distant, but amused, expression.

“God, you were all amazing,” Catwoman grinned. “Clark and Bruce you still owe me diner, but it’s been a long time since I last had so much fun in those stupid events.”

She caught both men’s hands in hers, her head falling on Bruce’s shoulder. Clark raised an arm to wrap around both of them, pressing a chaste kiss to Selina’s hand as an apology. Dick nudged Jason, who refused to touch him since he was ‘covered in mud’, but ended up rubbing his nose against his temple like a cat. Crashed out on one another, Tim and Conner were to be considered legally dead for the next twenty-four hours. 

At the far end of the car, Damian was playing with the black carp he had managed to evade in his bucket. 

Their reputations were safe.


End file.
